Birthday Gifts
by Crinklybrownleaves
Summary: This story links the two birthdays we have seen so far, both of them Jean's. The first is in S1E3, the other in S3E5. That second episode is one of my favourites, and the last few seconds of it are just perfect!
**With many thanks to all those who helped me work out the wish; you lovely people! xx**

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Two gifts, both perfect. How did he manage to do that, twice?

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She could feel the resentment rising in her, and she wondered if the frown lines between her eyes were becoming permanent. Old Dr Blake would never have treated her like this.

First Lucien took her completely for granted, expecting her to clear up his mess and never turning up to meals she had cooked, then he decided he didn't need a housekeeper anyway. Well, that's what he had said to Mattie, apparently.

So she looked for another job, even went to the interview, and then he changed his mind; now he did need 'help'.

So she helped him where she could, sneaking round the hotel, stealing Hannam's boots (she'd rather enjoyed that), threatening the sergeant with Christopher's gun (that may have been a little too exciting), filling him in on the local families that she knew better than he did.

And she'd enjoyed all that. She was useful, she got to think quickly, make decisions; she started to think that perhaps life with this younger Blake would not be so terrible.

But then he went straight back to taking her for granted; she was just Jean, the invisible housekeeper, the one who cooked the meals and washed his shirts, dusted the shelves and vacuumed the carpets.

Ah yes, the vacuum cleaner. There was a case in point; he could be interested in the vacuum cleaner when it helped him with a case, but if she needed him to put it together or change the bag, suddenly he lost all enthusiasm.

And yes, she knew she was being petty, but was it too much to expect him to help her a little, make a cup of tea perhaps? She wanted some respect, for him to notice she was a human being with failings and feelings, not just the hired help, a servant.

But then he turned everything on its head. Took the wind out of her sails completely. Turned up at her bedroom door with a birthday present. How did he even know it was her birthday?

And what a present it was too. Jade and gold, exotic and rather special. She was only being truthful when she said it was beautiful; and it was probably far too valuable to give to his housekeeper. Her thought, "Was it hers?" slipped out before she could think.

Despite his denial, she was sure it had been bought with his wife in mind, even if he had never had the chance to give it to her. Jean was moved that he'd given it to her instead; was he accepting his wife was gone forever then? She couldn't help feeling pity for him, though he'd have hated that.

After he'd gone, after that awkward moment when neither of them knew what to say, she'd clutched the box for a moment, touched by his generosity, and maybe a little ashamed of her ill tempered resentment in recent days.

He'd changed everything, bowled her over, in just a few moments. How had he done that?

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A year later, and it was her birthday again. Quite a year it had been too. Somehow, in that year, she'd moved from useful to essential, from housekeeper to friend to...she wasn't quite sure. He had slipped from being her employer into her confidant, from completely impossible into the person her life revolved around.

They always seemed to be moving closer, but then one or other of them would shy away, losing the nerve to say something, in case the other didn't feel the same.

But these days Lucien took it as read that Jean would help with his investigations; they exchanged banter, chided, encouraged and questioned each other, and so as the cases were solved, the ties that bound them together became tighter.

She had sympathised when his daughter didn't want to see him. He had consoled her when Jack left on bad terms with her, again. To everyone around them it seemed obvious they were together, but Jean was not quite sure yet. Was she ready? Perhaps it was time to find out.

And so, as her birthday evening went badly awry, as Jacqueline Maddern's body cooled on the billiard table, Jean realised she wanted more. Her disagreement with Christopher made her realise that she understood Lucien better than she did her actual family. She leapt to Blake's defence even at the cost of an humiliation from Munro.

They all returned to the house in the weary chill of dawn; eager only to sleep, but not wanting to disappoint Mattie, they joked about the cake and the candles. But then there was a moment of truth. Make a wish. So she did, she wished for...

Him. No more, no conditions, no buts. Just him.

As she blew out the candles ("Heaven knows, we couldn't afford nearly enough...") she looked at him, and he knew, he knew - and she smiled.

His one word, "Bravo!" was all agreement, the willing giving of himself.

This year's birthday gift was more beautiful, more valuable, better chosen than last year's, and it would last for the rest of her life.


End file.
